


An Open Book in an Unfamiliar Tongue

by tremble_and_shake



Category: Jimmy Page - Fandom, Led Zeppelin, classic rock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 13:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tremble_and_shake/pseuds/tremble_and_shake
Summary: Guys, I really don’t know what this is.  It’s not part of any chronological fic, but it's not a one-shot either. It’s more of a personal experiment than anything else; to explore character growth and development and to play with Gypsy (my OFC) & Jimmy’s relationship.





	An Open Book in an Unfamiliar Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I really don’t know what this is. It’s not part of any chronological fic, but it's not a one-shot either. It’s more of a personal experiment than anything else; to explore character growth and development and to play with Gypsy (my OFC) & Jimmy’s relationship.

He put the key in the door and felt a slight panic to find it already unlocked. He always made sure to double- at times even triplecheck the locks before leaving.

The room was dim and she had the shades drawn.  She was moving through a series of physical postures and hadn’t seemed to notice his presence. **“You’ve made it early, love,”** he said locking and latching the door.   **“You nearly sent me into a panic thinking I’d left the room unlocked.”**

She never locked doors or worried about such things and it drove him mad, but he knew better than to press it further.  She’d just insist he was overly paranoid, which maybe he was.

**“Did it go well this afternoon?”** her voice was spirited.

**“Well, more or less, yes,”** he soughed. **“I think Peter and I made ourselves clear in the end, but it wasn’t an easy task.  We’ll leave it at that for now, that part of the day is behind me.”**

**“You should really join me, I think it would help you.”**

**“And in just what would I be joining?”** he padded in her direction, tossing his jacket onto the bed. He maintained his distance a few feet away from her, as though he would disturb sacred ground by encroaching any further. **“You know I’m not really one for calisthenics, love.”**

**“Alright, then, Jimmy. I’m almost finished.”**

**“Sorry, dear.  I’ll go take a shower and leave you be.”**

Before stepping into the bathroom, he snuck a quick peek at her, now in downward dog. Fuck, that would be just perfect for… He shook his head, trying to scatter that thought as he turned on the water.

***

After drying off, he wrapped the towel snugly at his waist and turned the door handle slowly, quietly.  She was seated now with her back towards him and chanting softly.  With gossamer steps he made his way to the bed, lowering onto the edge.  He withheld his breath as he struggled to listen but still couldn’t quite make out the words.  Her forehead kissed the carpet in a quick bow.

**“I didn’t know you could speak Sanskrit, darling,”** his eyebrows raised in wonder.

**“It’s the _Jaya Radha_ mantra,” **she stood before him, her fingers running their way through his damp hair. **“I don’t really speak the language, I just know the alphabet and a handful of chants.”**

His expression remained unchanged, her answer insufficient to quell his astonishment.

**“I spent a few months living with devotees at a Krishna temple,” she said as way of explanation.**

**“That Hindu sect, the one George Harrison’s been involved with?”**

**“That’s the one!“** She tapped his nose and stepped aside to tie back the curtains.  He remained seated with a fixed gaze and a wrinkle woven through his eyebrows. **“I try to keep up at least some of the practices I learned there, helps to keep my spirit calm.”**

**“Well it certainly doesn’t keep your spirit still,”** he squinted as the light poured in. **“You’re one of the most wayfaring ladies I’ve met.”**

**“And I suppose that’ll never change,”** she said arching her back, clasped hands reaching up and back.  She relinquished the stretch with a contented exhale, drawing his attention back to his own breath which had knotted and tangled up in his chest.  

**“Do you need a _proper seeing-to,_ Jimmy?”** she said in her best British accent as she ambled towards him. **“You seem a bit down.”**

He tried to smile at her felicitous attempt to cheer him up, but his suddenly-worried mind quickly overruled. **“Preoccupied, rather.”**

**“Hm, I think I can change that,”** she laid a finger on her lips, pretending to wrack her brain.

**“Or shift your focus, at the very least. Let me try?”** She cocked her head, looking unexpectedly innocent.  

His face softened slightly at her attentive playfulness.  At least, he knew this side of her. It was familiar. Domestic, even, if you wanted to call it that.

**“Darling, I’m not asking you to- ”**

She silenced him with a finger against his lips, the tip butting up to his nose.  

**“Shh.”**  He offered no resistance as she pressed his shoulders down.  She knelt at the foot of the bed, her fingers unwrapping the towel like a gift  He wasn’t even close to being hard yet, so she knew he wasn’t fibbing about being caught up in vexing thoughts.

Each palm flattened against his thighs as her face inched forward. She dipped her nose underneath him and ran her tongue from the edge of his balls to the very tip.  He became more rigid with every inch she covered.

When she reached his tip she swirled her tongue around it slowly, then traced back down along the underside. He groaned when her tongue flicked at his base.  She was always diligent when giving head, paying great attention to detail and how her ministrations changed the subtlety of his breath. But this was even more tender, more doting than usual.

He propped himself up on his elbows to admire her aptitude. His cock had lengthened, stretched taut across her face and it partially obscured the smile he knew was behind it.  

**“Christ, you look sexy like that,”** he said.

She replied by humming against his underside, the skin so smooth she couldn’t resist dragging her lips back and forth across it.  It felt like a length of chiffon glissading between their flesh, and she wondered who was most enjoying the sensation.

She let his swollen tip part her lips, where it gladly claimed the space within them.  His breath puttered like it was caught in his throat. Through tender repetitions, she coaxed him into a slower cadence until his chest rose and fell in time with her warm, steady strokes.  

Soon his belly began to tighten in spasms as she carried him steadily to the precipice. Her dark, burnished eyes never stopped smiling up at him as she did.  Finally, he reached down and grabbed his length, retreating from her throat just enough so that when he came, it would pool in the soft center of her tongue.

When he reached that crest, a frenzied flood of endorphins surged and a synesthetic sensation of a blinding-white light coursed through his veins, leaving his mind completely blank, his breath gasping.

When she crawled up beside him he was still recovering: eyes closed and his right hand resting on his chest as though to steady his breath. She bit her bottom lip to suppress a haughty grin.

**“Fuck, that was bloody good.”**

His lids receded slowly, revealing halcyon eyes that weren’t there before.  He shifted onto his side and let his hand wander to her hipbone, snooping just below the waistband.

**“No need to return the favor, Jimmy,”** she gently moved his hand away and pressed her lips against his. **“That was to help clear your head.”**

**“Feeling benevolent today, are we, Gypsy?”**

**“Mmm, not quite.  You’ll just owe me an extra one tonight,”** she teased.

**“Are you quite sure, love?”**  That stubborn hand started to wander again.  She clasped it inside hers and held it snugly against her belly, forcing him to resign his efforts.

For a few wordless moments he followed her breath, using it’s pacifying rhythm to gather his thoughts.  Finally, he spoke.

**“Why haven’t you ever told me about any of that before?”** he tread lightly with the placement of each word.   **“The yoga, Sanskrit and all that.”**

**“You never asked,”** she paused. **“And it just never came up, I guess.”**

**“I hardly think that’s the case,”** he scoffed, surprising even himself. **“You’re well aware I hold a deep interest in Eastern spirituality, the intersection of music and mantra, that sort of thing.  I can’t imagine you never thought it was even slightly relevant.”**

She inhaled quietly.  The breath hovered like it needed gravity to help pull it back down.  When it did, it came in a gentle cascade.

**“I don’t understand why you’re so riled over this, Jimmy.”**

**“Riled? I’m not riled,”** his tone softened again, although it took quite a conscious effort.   **“I just, I don’t know why you’re so reluctant to open up to me.”**

**“Maybe you’re too busy opening my legs to have a heart-to-heart. And I have no complaints about that.”**

He was silent.

**“Sure, I can be a bit guarded,”** she said retreating behind closed eyes. **“But what about you?  Have you forgotten? You’re no open book yourself, James. ”**  

He lay there, body wrapped against hers, and fell back into the bramble of his worried thoughts while she drifted off to sleep. _An open book,_ he thought, _in an unfamiliar tongue._


End file.
